


Visu sim beátus tuæ gloriæ

by fraxiinus



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: I have a lot of feelings, M/M, adoro te wreck my asshole amirite, pseudo epilogue for a fic that isn't mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6842794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraxiinus/pseuds/fraxiinus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I may have the happiness of seeing your glory. Amen.</p><p>A brief coda taking place after the events of linguamortua's Adoro te devote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visu sim beátus tuæ gloriæ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linguamortua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguamortua/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Adoro te devote](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580279) by [linguamortua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguamortua/pseuds/linguamortua). 



> This is a short coda in the universe of [linguamortua's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/linguamortua/pseuds/linguamortua) amazing fic, [Adoro te devote](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6580279/chapters/15411844). Major spoilers for the end, so please read the actual fic first. I am not the creator of this universe, or these characters.

Getting a physical newspaper on his desk every morning was one of the few traditions Hux maintained from when his father had founded Hux Petroleum, back when the newspaper was the only way to actually get the news. Past the advent of the internet Hux had never understood why his father still archaically read the paper, a question only answered when he took the helm of his company at the ripe age of 21 and realized that reading the newspaper was his last line of defense before he had to open his computer and begin to address the day’s business.

He knew there were a hundred e-mails unread in his inbox. He wanted to reach through the computer and strangle every person who sent one.

When he walked behind his desk the morning paper was laid out for him as usual, but he noticed as he sat down that there was a small pink sticky-note placed on top of it. He was in the news frequently, especially now that he had announced his impending marriage to Bebe (she was somewhat interesting, but it was more payback to his mother for forcing him into the business), but Dawn had specifically been instructed not to bring up or acknowledge the tabloid gossip that circulated about him daily. Curious, his eyes scanned the note to see what his receptionist had found so important to point out to him. 

‘ _You may have an interest in the bottom of page 6_ ’ it read in her cursive handwriting. His eyebrows scrunched, normally any news about him was on the front page, before he opened the paper and flipped through it until he arrived at page 6, eyes drifting to the bottom of the paper. He immediately found what she had pointed out, and his breath caught slightly in his throat. In front of him, in black and white ink, was a picture of Kylo. Kylo Ren, the seminary student he had seduced when he was 17. However it was not the familiar face that made his breath catch, but the headline in bold above it.

**PRIEST MURDERED OUTSIDE GAS STATION IN RURAL GEORGIA**

_At 8:47 PM on Tuesday, May 16th, a Priest residing in Sharpsburg, Georgia was involved in a fatal shooting confrontation at a gas station 35 miles outside of Atlanta. Father Kylo had lived in the area, where he was the Priest in Residence at Saint Mary Magdalene Catholic Church, for only a few short months prior to the incident. Local residents say he kept mostly to himself and the church, having made few connections outside of it in his time in Sharpsburg._

_On the night of the shooting at 8:43 PM, Father Kylo could be seen on security footage purchasing food and toiletries before exiting the gas station. At 8:47 911 dispatch received a call from gas station attendant Lydia Kao, who reported hearing gunshots and discovered Father Kylo around the side of the station. The official police report states that he was unconscious upon discovery, and was pronounced dead at the scene by paramedics at 9:08 PM._

_The suspect behind the shooting is still at large, however local police have declared the incident a botched robbery. At the time of his death Father Kylo was recorded as having only one item in his possession aside from his purchases, his bible, which contained newspaper clippings following the news of one Brendol Hux Jr.. Father Ren was a private tutor to Hux Jr. during the latter's brief time at St. Luke’s Catholic School, and is believed to have kept track of his former student’s success after his expulsion. Hux Jr. serves at the current CEO for Hux Petroleum, a position he inherited after his father passed away in..._

Hux’s mind stopped paying attention to the words he was reading, only catching that a brief memorial was to be held at Kylo’s church, followed by a burial on the grounds, before his eyes averted back to the picture of Kylo. It was the first he had seen since he packed up and left St. Luke’s for good. Kylo had aged, his hair a bit longer, his eyes a bit more tired, but the expression on his face was the same as it ever was; serious, devoted, and the most shyly handsome Hux had ever laid his eyes on, even after all that time. Kylo was standing at the front of what Hux could only assume was the church he was residing at before, before-

Hux had thought of Kylo somewhat often in the first few months after he had left St. Luke’s. The images of him looking at Hux with genuine emotions, worry, concern, frustration, and of him overcome by ecstasy in the dark of the his room in the seminary replayed in Hux’s mind in equal turns. They didn’t stay long, however, with college applications and the reality of his father’s impending death having pushed them from Hux’s mind as he was forced to continue with his life. A passing thought of Kylo would occasionally come to him in the years since, whenever he happened to take notice of a particularly ornate church in his travels, or hear the bells in the distance, but those memories surfaced in moments few and far between. Kylo hadn’t crossed his mind in over a year.

To think that Kylo had newspaper clipping of him in his bible, that were with him when he died…Hux registered that he felt as if he had lost something, but he couldn’t quite comprehend what. He knew mourning, or at least what mourning should be (he had not mourned his father, but he watched his mother do so for months), but what he felt in that moment was different. It was as if something had been taken from him that he never realized was there, something pulled from the recesses of his soul, a presence never noticed but an absence that ached as if he had been stung. 

He stared at Kylo’s picture for another moment before slowly turning his chair and reaching for one of his desk drawers. The silence of the room was abnormally heavy, every rustle of the paper, squeak of his chair, scraping of his desk seemed to echo, from the walls or his skull he wasn’t sure. From the drawer Hux produced a pair of scissors, and proceeded to carefully cut the article out of the paper, re-reading it while he worked. It was brief, all that was left was a short summary of his own accomplishments (they assumed Kylo kept up with him out of pride for his former student, if only they knew the truth) and a small blurb of Kylo’s life up until his death.

He had gone to Venezuela for three years. Hux never knew. 

He never thought to find out.

When the clipping was cut and carefully set on the desk he reached into his pocket and pulled out his leather wallet. Hux folded the paper delicately and slid it in underneath where his credit cards were kept, in a pocket that held nothing else and could barely be noticed. He held the wallet in his hand for a moment, the silence of the room reminding him, briefly, of the church at St. Lukes after everyone had left. The rhythmic click of Kylo’s rosary missing.

The moment passed. Hux placed the wallet back in his pocket, turned the page of the newspaper, and continued with his day.

—-

When Hux died, it was not the way he expected, but he supposed it was the way he had to.

He didn’t realize what had happened until his ears filled with a deafening bang and he felt something pass through him, followed by a pain akin to fire coursing through his body from the point in his chest where the bullet had struck him. He had barely noticed the man step in front of him, let alone have time to avoid the gun he pulled from his waistband. They had been walking up the steps to the city courthouse, his wife by his side, to hear the environmental charges he would face for the disastrous spill that had ruined his company, his family, and his life two years prior.

He had been running Hux Petroleum for 29 years. He had destroyed a lot, in that time. Gas was a messy business, and Hux registered no surprise as he felt his legs give out from underneath him, only the fiery pain and the knowledge that this was his end.

Laying on the ground, his wife screaming next to him, cradling his head, dirtying her hands in a vain attempt to stop his profusely bleeding wound, a number of things flashed through Hux’s mind at once. 

He thought of his children, grown, beginning to find their own lives, their own families, and the fact that they would never have to inherit his life the way he did his father’s. That knowledge brought him peace he hadn’t expected. 

He thought of Bebe, whom he had grown to love despite the sham their marriage began as. He wanted to tell her that it would be alright, that he was alright, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He wanted to lift his hand to her face, but he found when he tried that he could not move it. He felt like he was sinking, the darkness around his vision growing as the light began to shrink, Bebe’s screams fading slowly from his mind.

Then, as his eyes shut and the last of the world left him, he thought of the newspaper clipping in his wallet, yellowed, ripped at it’s creases, unreadable and probably soaked through with blood.

He let himself exhale.

**Author's Note:**

> I was absolutely _devastated_ in the best way possible by the end of Adoro te devote, because it was so true to their characterization through the fic (I interpret it as Kylo dying, clearly). Kylo was, to me, obsessive in his devotion, by the end not only to the church but also to Hux. On the other hand, I saw Hux as interested in Kylo, but having too much happening and going on to let the seed of what could have been feelings grow, even if he knew it was there. I was immediately inspired to write about that difference, and how I felt Hux may have reacted when he heard the news. 
> 
> I think what he's feeling that he can't place is that he lost a _potential_. That there was a person he could have been with Kylo that he never got to explore, and that he would feel the loss of that person inside of him when Kylo died, because there was no one else who could have ever brought it to light. When he left St. Luke's he knew he left Kylo behind, but I think it would be different to know he was truly _gone_ , not just hidden away and forgotten. There would be spans of time, years, maybe decades even, later in his life where he wouldn't think of that summer and shy, strange, beautiful Kylo Ren, but every time he would purchase a new wallet the newspaper clipping would transfer over along with everything else. Perhaps he felt he owed it to Kylo, who kept him so close to his own heart until he died. Perhaps he felt he owed it to himself. 
> 
> Anyway i'm fine this is fine.


End file.
